


The New Build

by TrueSoprano



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Post-Canon Fix-It, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueSoprano/pseuds/TrueSoprano
Summary: A couple of months have passed since the battle in the Imperial City, which saw the deaths of both Martin Septim and the Champion of Cyrodiil. Two strangers travel in a mourning province, both with their own scars and secrets they don't want anyone to know.
Relationships: Female Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Martin Septim, Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Martin Septim
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	The New Build

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there's a plot twist made obvious by the tags, but there's no way around it if I want anyone to read this, so just pretend you don't know the spoiler.

Two hooded figures stood on a hill overlooking the Nibenay Basin. They had been traveling all afternoon from Bruma, and while both of them were quite tired, the woman seemed like she was on the verge of passing out. She was breathing heavily and her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on the man facing her, hands on her shoulders, blue eyes peeking out from under his black hood.

“It’s about an hour’s walk from here,” his voice was soft and full of concern. “Do you need to rest?”

“If we’re that close… we should keep going...”

“Are you sure you’re all right? Look, this is a lovely spot. I wouldn’t mind resting for a bit. Don’t be stubborn.”

That was all the reassurance she needed. As soon as he sat down, she pretty much collapsed on the ground next to him. 

“What was that about wanting to keep going?” he teased, shifting his legs. “Here, you can rest on my lap if you’d like.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she said groggily, rolling over to place her head on his lap and wrapping herself in her cloak. The sun was still out, but a wind from the Jerall Mountains blew from the north, causing a slight chill in the air.

He watched over her as she rested her eyes, combing his fingers through her black hair. He never thought he would say this, but after living in the north for so long, he had come to grow fond of the cold weather. He loved the tranquil snowfalls, the roaring fires, the feeling of a warm bed on a cold night, and for some reason it felt more quiet up north. But still, how he had missed any sort of warm weather. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of lavender and bergamot growing nearby, hearing birds chirping and rushing water in the distance, feeling the sun hit his face. He had spent most of his life in the West Weald so he was used to warmer weather, and the sun felt like a nostalgic reminder of days that felt like a lifetime ago.

This, right now, was a new start. 

How old was he, 43? 44? He was sure it was 43 but he felt like it was something he had to check. He felt like he was simultaneously too young and too old. Too old to start his life over, too young to die. Too old to have this many doubts about himself, too young to have seen as much as he had.

He briefly wondered if she felt the same way. 

She clearly had her own scars. She would randomly lose focus to stare off into the distance. She would jolt awake from bad dreams, out of breath. She would hold on to him tightly, afraid of him not being real. She gave him a reason to try to be strong, but it was hard for him, and he would often break in front of her. Often they would both just hold each other, afraid of the universe around them, unsure of anything except their need for each other. 

She was the only thing he was sure of. He wanted her beside him, throughout all of the uncertainty.

The younger woman’s eyes opened slowly. “Dear...” he heard her mumble.

“Yes, my love?” He was met with a small giggle.

“No, deer. Over there.” He looked up and saw a group of does running off into the woods. It really was a beautiful place they had found.

“How are you feeling? Did you sleep at all?”

“No. But I did rest, and I feel a little better.” She slowly sat up.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry if I pushed you today.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m not used to traveling. I haven’t traveled since… you know… ” She was remembering a day that was too fresh in both of their minds. 

He tried to distract her. “You might feel better if you ate something. I packed a few rations, it’s not much since I know we can restock in Cheydinhal, but it’ll give you the strength to travel.”

He handed her a small bag, and she pulled out a hard piece of bread and some forest berries. “This is good for now,” she said as she put a red berry in her mouth, tart but sweet and refreshing. “Thank you. You can have some too, if you’d like.”

“You need it more than I do,” he smiled. “But tonight, we’ll both eat well. And sleep in a big bed. We made a lot of septims from those potions you made.”

***

The rest of the journey wasn’t terrible, although once the sun started to set it had gotten a lot colder. The two wrapped their cloaks tightly around them as they walked slowly. She occasionally had to stop and catch her breath, but he was always willing to wait, reassuring her. 

Soon, the city looming in the distance was right in front of them. By the time they had reached the gate, the sun had practically set and their breaths were visible. 

“Keep your hood up,” the man reminded her. “And we’re travelers from Bruma, if anyone asks.”

“Are we not travelers from Bruma, though?”

“I mean… ”

“This won’t be as hard as you think. Just be yourself.”

The two entered the west gate and found the city to be quieter than expected. Several people were leaving their workplaces to head either home or to one of the pubs, but none lingered outside for too long. They both remembered Cheydinhal to be a much livelier place, even at night, but then they both remembered that the entire province was mourning the loss of the Septim bloodline, and their empire.

“Have you ever been here?” the woman broke the silence.

“A few times, in my youth. I have some… stories you might find amusing. But you’re probably more familiar with the city than I am.”

“Maybe you can tell me later, when we’re alone,” she smiled at him before stopping in front of an inn. “Right here, here’s the inn that I stayed at last time. The owner’s a bit of a snob and it’s a little expensive but the food’s great and the rooms are really nice.”

The two strangers entered the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn. It wasn’t as crowded as the last time she was here but fortunately there were enough people there that not many would pay attention to the mysterious figures. There was a large group in the corner, drunkenly singing merry songs, and a few couples and solo patrons watching them, but there were plenty of empty tables.

“You can sit if you’d like,” he reassured her. “Let me buy a room.”

Normally she would have teased him, accusing him of not thinking she could take care of herself. But food and sleep were the only thing her mind had any capacity for at the moment, so she picked a table for two in the corner and sat down as he went up to the bar.

“One room,” said the man to the woman at the counter, his voice low and weary. “And we’d like something to eat, too. I hope you don’t mind that my partner’s already sat down. She was injured recently and needs rest-”

“A room is 40 a night. Although if you can’t afford it there’s a cheaper inn across the street-”

He slammed a pouch of money on the counter. “Please, don’t make assumptions about us. We’ve been traveling all day, and my partner isn’t feeling so well.”

She had no choice but to take the money, handing him a hand written menu. He walked to the table, where his partner had been resting her eyes. He placed a hand on her shoulder and her eyes fluttered open.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes managed to focus on him. “I’m fine… I just need to rest for the night. But I’m a lot better than I was last month, I promise.”

“Well I know that. I just know you haven’t traveled for a while, and I don’t want to exhaust you.”

“I’ll be fine as long as I’m traveling with you.”

He smiled at her, moving his hand to hold hers under the table.

“I know this is a detour, and I’m sorry.”

“I know praying at the Temple of Arkay is important to you. Please don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t just not worry about you. Now… let’s get you something to eat.”

“And drink.”

He looked at the menu and his eyes lit up.

“We’re finally out of the Jerall Mountains. We can finally eat fresh tomatoes!”

She giggled. “It makes me happy to see you so passionate about things. Even the humble tomato.”

“Ah, but you can do many things with the humble tomato.”

As if on cue, the owner came by. “What can I get you?”

“Tomato soup. With bread. And butter and cheese. And a bottle of Surilie Brothers wine.” He was anticipating being questioned about their ability to pay again.

“Make that enough for two.”

***

Once the food arrived, she found herself coming back to life. She buttered a slice of the warm, crusty bread and dipped it in her bowl of soup, creamy and fragrant. It was exactly what she needed after her day of traveling. She looked at the man across from her and noticed he was in a state of pure bliss from the food. She smiled, happy that he was with her throughout everything.

After the two ate, she briefly wished she could have another drink and join the other patrons of the inn in their little party. She had grown up in High Rock and was fascinated by Imperial culture. However, even if she did decide to draw attention to themselves, she remembered how tired she was the second she stood up. 

Soon afterwards, the two settled into their room, which they both found to be extremely comfortable and well furnished for the price. They were now studying a map of the province, illuminated by candlelight.

“It’s only a few hours to Chorral if we keep to the main roads,” he explained while pointing at the map. “We could easily stop by the temple in the morning, and have enough time to travel before sundown. Or we could stay here another night if you’d prefer to rest.”

“This is a nice room. I wouldn’t mind staying here another night if we have the money.”

“We still have quite a bit. And we’d still have to spend money at an inn in Chorrol, you know.”

“But if we travel, I can pick more plants and make more potions to sell.”

“You make a good point. But still, we have a lot from the last batch you made.”

She found herself studying the man’s face. His hood combined with the candlelight cast shadows over the lines on his face, and she noticed he looked older than usual. Was it the lighting, or the perils the two had been through recently? She then started to laugh quietly to herself.

“What do you find so funny?”

“You haven’t taken your hood off.”

“Hmm. I guess I’ve gotten so used to it, I’d forgotten it was there!”

He then took off the black hood that had shrouded his head the entire day. It was probably an unnecessary safety measure, since he didn’t think many people would have remembered his face, but he still didn’t know who would be gossiping. He brushed a few strands of brown hair out of his face and smiled at her, bright blue eyes glowing in the candlelight.

“You wear that hood well though, Martin.”

Martin. A man who was dead to the world.

“Just as your new hair color suits you, Solona.”

Solona, the Hero of Kvatch, who had supposedly died protecting Martin in the Imperial City. She started to giggle again, flipping her recently dyed black hair. Her hair was recently a much more vibrant color, making her noticeable anywhere she went, so changing the color was absolutely necessary.

“You sure do giggle a lot,” he teased, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“And you tease a lot,” she giggled, standing to move closer to him before settling in his lap, resting her arms on his shoulders.

“I thought you liked it when I teased you!” He placed a hand on her cheek as she moved closer to him.

“Only when I get to tease back.”

They smiled against each other’s lips before falling into a kiss. Their kisses had become a lot more relaxed throughout the time they had known each other, yet she still felt her heart flutter, feeling his lips and the warm embrace of his arms. 

“So…” she said quietly once they broke away, “we stay here 2 nights. And then Chorrol. And Skingrad. And Anvil. And we figure out what to do from there once we get there.”

“But first, we sleep. And the Nine know we need it.”

“Martin...” she snuggled into him, face resting against his neck. “I don’t know why, but tonight, more than usual… I look forward to sleeping next to you.”

He held her tighter. He had definitely slept easier recently, not just with her constantly by his side, but without the looming threat of Oblivion, or Dagon, or becoming emperor.

“You still love me, even after being reborn without the Septim blood.”

“Always. I didn’t fall in love with an emperor, I fell in love with Martin.”

The two would eventually go to bed and fall into a peaceful sleep, but not before holding each other on the chair for several long moments. They both knew the pain of being without each other, and only due to Akatosh’s gratitude were they given another chance at life together, so they cherished every moment like this they could get. These moments had become a lot more frequent after everything had happened, and they were unburdened by their duties, but they were still the most precious thing in the universe to both of them.

They were no longer Emperor and Champion. They were Martin and Solona.


End file.
